Attack
by usuk-team
Summary: After a squabble between Alfred and Arthur, the briton attempts to make amends but something gets to the American first..
1. Fight

Heyo. This is an rplog between the two people who use this account. Hope you enjoy. I tried my best to fix it, and make it more of a fanfiction sort of format, but eh. Sorry if it's a bit confusing.

Also, being American, my use of British slang is probably.. well, bad. Apologizing now.

Reviews are nice. And unfortunately these characters do not belong to me.

* * *

It was never suppose to happen- no matter how many times Alfred told himself this, he couldn't help but keep replaying this stupid scenario in his head. That damn Briton- why did he have to be so stupid and take things so seriously?

He would never know, but it was just a _joke_- just merely a joke that he cracked while in a meeting with some of the other countries in the UN. They were all talking about their past wars at random and Alfred decided to bring up one of his most epic battles within US history- the Revolutionary War between him and Briton. Of course, he felt a little ill at ease with it, and he could tell Arthur was to an extent, but he went on with it. It was alright, they were all listening, and he joked about how Briton was just not that powerful compared to a ragtag team of colonists who had a score to settle, amongst other things.

It was just a joke, but.. Arthur didn't see it as that.

Rubbing his eyes, the American had tried to not think of it. Stupid Briton. Why was he so stubborn to apologize for over reacting to him and just get over it? It wasn't like he said something awful to the Briton. Well, maybe in Arthur's eyes, he certainly did, but.. stupid, idiot, overly emotional thing. Alfred rubbed at his eyes, huffing quietly as he crossed his arms. As much as he would've wanted to talk to Arthur- considering how close they were, or at least to an extent in their friendship, but.. he wasn't going to let up on this- he wouldn't want the Briton to feel high and mighty, just because Alfred apologized first. Hell no. He wasn't going to let up with that.

He was going to hold down on this- especially since it was NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. None. It was harmless, but stupid Arthur took it in a stupid way and blew it up. Hmph.

Arthur was furious. His temper was on the verge of bubbling over, and he could swear that he was in danger of cardiac arrest. He didn't know why it made him so bleeding mad.

He should've been used to it by now, or, at least that's what the Briton always told himself whenever the other nation would humiliate him in some way or form. But this time, it was too much. Then again, the dirty blond couldn't put his finger on why exactly this one comment made his stomach twist into knots and his heart pound in angrily. After all, worse things had been said before. And even to his face. Alfred.. well, it was usual for the Englishman to be upset with the American prat, but.. his anger level was up and over the roof.

"Bloody fucking git," he mumbled under his breath repeatedly, Arthur remembered, when he quickly made his way out of the G8 room, and left the Summit without a single word. He wasn't going to let Alfred get the best of him. Not this time.

The next few days was spent sitting by the telephone, waiting. Just waiting for the moment when his former colony would pick up the phone and apologize for what he had said, even though to anyone on the outside, it wouldn't seem like a big deal. That's where Arthur's heart differed. He could take shit from nearly anyone else, stand there with a smirk on his lips. But Alfred-... well.. that was a completely different story there. Seeing as how Arthur loved the younger nation, when the golden blond man would ridicule him, or anything of the sort-even in a playful manner-it hurt. It hurt like bloody hell.

But he would never admit this.

Arthur was much to stubborn to do such a thing. So instead of apologizing himself, he waited for days, letting his work pile up and up gradually, jumping at any ring. He just wanted to hear the other's voice. Just hearing the blasted fool's voice would calm the aching pain, even if he didn't apologize.

So the next morning-just like every other morning for the past week-the Englishman forced himself out of bed, made himself a cup of tea and sat down beside the phone, his feet up on the couch and his arms wrapped around his legs. He didn't like this feeling. Without Alfred, he was basically alone.

"Prat.. Just call. Just call already."

'_Don't cave in. For God sakes, Alfred F. Jones, do not cave into that stupid Briton. Just because you said some joke that apparently got him all up in arms, does NOT mean you have to apologize to that idiot. He over reacted. His own damn fault. Not yours. You're not gonna be subdued by him not talkin' to ya' for a week to cave in and apologize. Just ain't right._' the American huffed at his own thoughts, rubbing at his eyes.

He shouldn't have to apologize to Arthur. Yeah, that's right, he shouldn't have to- if anything, that weirdo had to apologize to him. He was the one that went crazy and wasn't talking to him. He was the one who just stormed out of the conference without so much as saying a word, not Alfred. This was what drove the American mad. As much as he didn't want to apologize to the blonde, a small part of him actually _did_ want to say sorry to Arthur.

Just a small part. Not too big, but none-the-less, it was giving him a headache.

But he was staying strong on this- he'd always had to listen to Arthur in the past and apologize for something stupid, but oh no, not this time. He was gonna stay firm. He was gonna be honest. He was gonna show that damn Briton that he meant business this time and that _he_ should come to the American and apologize. If he was so bent on that though, why was he suddenly picking up his cell phone and flipping through the contact list then? Blinking, the cerulean eyed male gawked as he found his fingers searching for the very person he was choosing to avoid. Stupid body. Stupid subconscious mind. Well, maybe a phone call wouldn't hurt. Maybe. He wasn't sure. He just knew he wasn't going to apologize to that over emotional man.

Clicking on the name that read, 'Arthur McEnglandpants' on his phone, he huffed as he pressed the call button. Yeah. He was probably being stupid with this. Well, with over reacting to a potential call that would just be civil- that is, if the Briton decided to make it civil. Alfred knew that when the Briton was angry, he would stay angry. Hell, he was angry for the longest of times after he broke off from the older male and made his own country. Yeah, those few years of silence wasn't that awesome, but.. the blonde shook his head, sighing as he placed the phone to his ear- hearing the ringing tone. Better answer. He better answer.

"I'm wastin' some money on this call, so ya' better pick up.." he mumbled to himself, huffing as he kept hearing the accursed dial tone. Stupid connection. Why did it take so long to make some overseas call? Guh.

The Englishman had just pressed his cup of tea against his lips, letting the warm liquid flow down his sore throat, when his television screen showed the name "American Prat" on the bottom right hand corner. Nearly doing a comedic spit take, the Briton choked on his drink, pounding on his chest to clear it down, his face now a flushed red. Cor blimey. He never expected it to happen. For the longest while, Arthur sat there in a daze, listening to the ringing of his phone drown in with the buzzing silence surrounding him.

_'Pick it up. Pick up the phone. It's not that hard,_' Arthur told himself. _'Just reach over, pick up the blasted phone, and say hello. Arthur Kirkland it's not that bleeding hard.'_ After continually muttering this mantra to himself, the Briton climbed over to the other end of the posh couch, and grabbed the telephone, waiting a moment before answering. Why had he even called? Alfred wasn't the type to apologize-unless forcibly, because "Americans were never wrong". After all of these years, the sandy blond haired man could feel his heart thrashing against his chest harshly. So harshly, in fact that he could hear it in his very ears. He couldn't help it. Seeing as how he was so accustomed to hearing the other nation's voice so frequently, even a week was too long, to not hear his voice.

He had avoided Alfred thoroughly. And.. well, Arthur couldn't even put his finger down on what he was mad about. Those jokes were your average run of the mill things that would usually be tossed into conversations at United Nations meetings, and he knew this. He knew this well. But.. he overreacted. Maybe.. he would apologize for once, and let the blue eyed man off the hook for once. He just wanted his company. More than anything right now-he just didn't want to be lonely. Swallowing thickly, Arthur flopped onto his back, sprawled across the sofa as he finally spoke up. "...Hullo?"

Alfred took in a sharp breath as he heard the Briton's voice, only to release a deep sigh after. Okay, at least he answered now, but.. Now he had to talk. Okay, so many his subconscious didn't think too ahead with this. Stupid mind. Why the hell couldn't it have done a better job? Whatever. Stupid, useless behavior. He really should get that checked out, but he had to focus on something more important than that right now. This was it. He wasn't going to apologize to Arthur- he was merely going to talk to him and be civil. He was going to just talk to him and have a good conversation. They were going to just be normal and not have any strings attached, well- more like force anything out of the other. He did know that Arthur had to apologize, but he wouldn't bring it up right now- no, not now, he didn't want another fight happening. He didn't want to fuel the fire.

Alfred felt odd for staying silent- he never even intended to be so silent, but he was just trying to gain his composure. What to say. What to say.. Oh, of course.

"Hey there, Arthur. How are ya'?" the blonde asked, leaning against one of the walls within the room he was in. Quietly, the American let out a sigh that he tried to cover up as best as he could- not wanting the other to hear it. "Been drinkin' that tea and what not like usual?" chuckling at that, Alfred stared up as he held his phone to his ear. He wasn't going to apologize. He was firm on this matter. He would stay stubborn and wait till the other finally caved in and would say sorry for freaking out and being a complete woman over this matter. Yeah, it was probably bad he used the term "woman," so lightly, but that's how he honestly saw it. Arthur blew up like a woman on him over something so small and mundane as a joke, but how would he know? He had no idea that the Briton would go crazy and just ignore him for a week. A week. A whole damn week without the Briton.

Alfred wouldn't admit it, but it was pretty.. quiet, and lonely without the other with him. Sure, Alfred was pretty popular amongst the other countries, but he didn't really have that big of a bond with them as he did with Arthur. The only one relatively close to this Matthew, but he was.. well, he'd probably just be awkward with it and feel ignored if Alfred told him all of this. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand, shutting his eyes as he tried to think of other things. How's the weather? How's that food? Is your cooking still awful? When are you coming to see me to apologize to my face? When are you going to ask me to come over there to talk?

Well, he wouldn't use the last two questions, that was certain. No talking to him about that, unless the Briton brought it up. Even then, it'd be pretty much a flip flop matter with the blonde. It could go smoothly, or it could go awful and then they're back to square one. At least they were attempting to talk now. Even if he wouldn't admit it very often or much, just the fact of hearing that short little hello from Arthur made him happy. Happy, by the slightest- maybe relieved and somewhat content. Yeah, those words fit in quite nicely with it. It was just so awkward to hear nothing but.. well, silence as he leaned upon the wall and was on the phone with Arthur.

God. Stupid Arthur.

He nearly held his breath as he waited to hear a voice on the other line. If this.. If this was some sort of joke, oh boy, the Briton would've been absolutely raving mad. His mind was racing back and forth through what to say, how to say it, to make sure and not stutter, and keep a calm tone of voice as if he didn't care that they hadn't been talking. Hell, the American was lucky he had even picked up the phone to begin with-usually he would wait to long to answer that Alfred would eventually give up and put the phone down.

Sure, it made the guilt sink into the pit of his stomach, but it usually wasn't intentional. Even if he was mad. When he was mad the one thing he wanted to do in the first place would be to talk it out with the other nation. As far as Arthur's state of mind was concerned, they would be having a calm, and peaceful conversation. And when the moment was just right, the Englishman would apologize for overreacting, and they would forget everything. But.. for some reason, even the words "I'm sorry" wouldn't come out right. Upon hearing the other's voice buzzing in his ear from the warm phone in his hand, a small smile curled on Arthur's lips. He cleared his throat once more, making sure to seem elegant and poised-which proved incredibly hard to do when he was laying all over his couch in a sloppy manner. After all, without his former colony there, he couldn't careless about his posture.

The emerald eyed man waited a few seconds before answering in a calm tone of voice. "Ah.. Hullo, Alfred. I'm doing jolly good. You?" He asked in return, his cheeks lightly flushed. He had.. He couldn't help but feel like a ditzy school girl, getting overly excited just to hear the person on the other line breathe, hanging onto every word. Right now he let that slide. It had been an entire week without caving in, he could let it slide for now. Hearing the other's comment, he continued to smile, a soft sigh escaping past his lips. "..Yus, actually I have. Tea and paperwork."

Sitting up, Arthur quietly made his way off of the couch with a light "oof" sound, and slid his brown shoes on. His mind had suddenly clicked. Alfred was always the one to surprise him.. so why not do the same? Here.. a broad grin crossed his features, and he moved around to look for his coat. It was still quite early in the morning, and the American usually stayed at home until twelve or so, and by taking his private jet, he would get there in no time at all.

It was perfect. And the best way to apologize. Hah.

He was so bloody brilliant.

'_Well, at least he answered and doesn't seem too mad_.' Alfred thought as he heard Arthur talk on the other line, waiting to see if he would react with a typical, "So, what about you, you stupid git?" or some type of insult. There wasn't any. Strange. Maybe he.. Well, he wasn't even sure himself. He was pretty unsure with how to react to this.

Alfred did make sure to keep himself composed and not.. well, go crazy like he usually did, which was even odd in itself. Alfred not spazzing and being loud on the phone? Hell, even in general, if he wasn't like that then.. well, pretty much all the nations would ask him what was wrong because he was never like that. The only times he ever was remotely quiet was because of some depression he had a while back, but right now he wasn't depressed. He was just, well down right lonely to an extent. Yeah, he would admit it- to an extent that he was lonely without the companionship of the Briton. Hell, even just being in the same room as him and looking at the other would give him some peace. At least they were on the phone now. At least now Arthur could apologize for all this mess, but Alfred knew it'd take some time. Arthur wouldn't apologize so easily or quickly, even if he did something awful to another person. He just wasn't the type of person to apologize first unless he seriously meant it or knew he had to.

Maybe that's where he got his attitude from with things like this- Alfred just normally never cared if he was convicting or not to someone, hell, even to people he didn't know and he would rarely apologize. He said it like it was.

"Well, ya' know- the usual here. I'm alright, just bored out of my mind with paperwork and.. not a lot of stuff going on. Pretty easy though I guess." the glasses clad male said, shutting his eyes as he heard the other move around. Hm. Probably gonna get more tea- he was always pretty clumsy if he was comfortable somewhere. Bringing himself off the wall, Alfred held onto the phone quite tightly to his ear. Yeah, he probably seemed lame right now, but dammit he was making sure that the other wasn't saying anything bad or plotting. As if he'd plot against him, but still- you couldn't be too careful with it. Even if they were close friends, Alfred knew what the other was capable of. "How's yer week been though?" he found himself asking, his voice laced with a calm sense as his mind was going at a hundred miles an hour and his heart rate beating even faster.

How was your week? God, he was probably gonna be honest or just say something to make him feel bad, well, maybe.

Maybe, maybe not. Alfred wasn't sure, considering that the two were actually being civil now. The blonde just merely wanted to see what would happen if he asked that and if the Briton would give him an honest answer. Maybe he would - hopefully he would. Alfred didn't want to just stand there and make things awkward on the phone when he was finally able to sum up the courage to call Arthur. No, no, not now. He had to be persistent with this, but not too much- he didn't want Arthur to think he was caving in so soon already. Not after constantly telling him how he wouldn't give up on anything he set his mind on- it'd be too ridiculous and almost embarrassing to go off and apologize first for something like this.

Arthur was going insane with this "civil" talk.

He couldn't stand pretending as if they were getting along, and as if nothing happened. It was nothing like them. Not at all.

While it was blatantly difficult to keep a straight face, and not insult the other as he so casually did all the time, the Briton managed to hold his ground. He slid on his corduroy jacket on top of his collared shirt and sweater vest-wearing it honestly just because the American would always make his snide comments about it. About how "dorky" it looked on his body, and things such as that, but he knew Alfred secretly loved it when he wore it. After all, the golden haired blond was the one who bought it for him (secretly, of course) last Christmas. He knew the other would have to smile upon seeing it.

He searched around the room, looking for the keys to his car and briefly pulled the phone away to text the pilot of his private jet that he would be needing a ride in a matter of minutes. He continued to listen to the gentle silence, waiting for the younger nation to make a reply of some sort, while locking the door. This wasn't the kind of conversation he wanted to have with Alfred after not talking to him for a long week.

No. He wanted to be happy.

He wanted to apologize, because he knew he was wrong-even though that was an incredible feat for him, and he wanted Alfred to smile. Which was the exact reason why he was heading over to America. The only thing eating away at the green eyed male was the fact of how similar his former colony was to him. So similar that it was starting to frighten him. Alfred had grown up to be a blunt person, who say anything practically, without caring what anyone else thought, and while that could sometimes be a good trait to have-seeing as how Arthur himself had this trait-he didn't like the other this way.

He missed that sweet, gentle and docile child with sky blue eyes and the brightest of smiles who would run to him after coming home from a long day and squeal about how much he loved Arthur. He knew that child was still inside of the other somewhere. Arthur had been determined to find him since day one.

"Ah..I see." He mumbled, not quite paying attention as he opened the car door and climbed inside. _'Should be in America in about an hour or so_,' the nation thought to himself, as he started the engine. He paused upon hearing the other's question. Here was his opening. But.. why not drag it out and make the other feel just a little guilty? There was no way he would pass up a chance such as this. "...Well," He started, turning the radio on quietly, the music now a soft lull in the background. "...I..It's been a terribly quiet week. I've been buried in paperwork all day. Haven't dared to leave the house. Matthew slept over the other day, but that was the extent of excitement in my house. It was a bit awkward, your brother has always been that way-quiet, invisible. But he was a good listener."

"Oh, really? I didn't know Matt went over and spent the night, but yeah- figures as much. He's always too quiet, I swear." he sighed out, his eyes still shut as he let himself focus on the conversation at hand.

Yeah, he was still bent on this- he wanted to make sure that everything was okay, or well as okay as they would be. Things wouldn't seriously be okay until one of them apologized for this, even Alfred knew that and he was always the one to not know what to do. "But, quiet? God, that's awful, heh'. At least he was a good listener for ya' then. That's better than nothing." he said, trying not to sound like an ass for saying that.

He never really did say a lot of awful things, but he just didn't want the other to take him in a wrong way. Alfred was doing his best to not sound stupid and do something stupid that would ultimately lead to them just being angry at one another for even longer.

"My week's been alright, I gotta admit- well, okay I guess. Nothin' too wild or bad, just was there at my own place doing things. Nothing really that popped out, ya' know?" the American spoke, releasing a soft sigh. '_Come on, Arthur, just say your stupid stuff and then apologize so I don't have to be stuck like this._' the impatient American thought as he heard a sudden random tune enter the atmosphere of the conversation. Random music. Huh, that wasn't on his end- was Arthur listening to music? Possibly, but he wasn't going to randomly go in and ask when he knew that Arthur would probably just ask him another question. '_Why are you listenin' to music now?_' '_Well, why aren't you apologizing to me, you idiot?_' God, he could only imagine, but maybe he was just letting his mind wander too much right now. Yes, yes that was probably right- he had to keep an open mind.

He couldn't be so bitter and sound like a child, he had to be straight with this. He had to think straight and think openly to see if the Briton would actually apologize first for this.

Hopefully he would. Alfred didn't feel ready to apologize or even know where to begin with something like this. Apologizing was like learning a new language for him at times- just so.. difficult and sometimes so not worth it. Plus, it required a lot of thinking before he would even begin to learn or start on a word.

Okay, probably not the best type of thing to compare it to, but Alfred wasn't even sure now. He just knew that apologizing wasn't an option at this point for him- it had to be Arthur to apologize. It just certainly had to be him to do it. Alfred wasn't about to let his guard down and cave in. Not this time. He would stick to what he had been saying the whole time to himself. He would just accept that small price, but.. Gah, the blonde rubbed his eyes again. He was feeling awkward now- he wasn't bouncing around, screaming or coming up with something random and calling the Briton that. He would never be this quiet and well.. like this. It was out of his character almost- had it not been the fact that he spoke with some sass in it like he usually did, he probably would've sounded a lot different than how he usually was. He didn't even want to think about that, but he just shrugged it off. His mind was already too clouded anyway with thinking of ways Arthur could apologize or when he probably would apologize to him about this.

"I.. I have to go. Can I.. call you back later?" Arthur questioned sheepishly as he revved up the car, backing out of the driveway.

He glanced at the clock. 8:05. The Briton quickly began to speed down the street, making his way towards the airport. He couldn't' stand being on the phone with his former colony much longer. Not when they were talking and behaving this way. Without waiting for an answer, the Englishman sighed softly. "Terribly sorry, but I'll.. see you later. I can't stay on the phone. ..Bye, Alfred."

Hanging up, he stuffed his phone into his pocket, and within a matter of moments arrived at the airport, and boarded his plane in less than half an hour. Hopefully, the American wouldn't be too mad. And he would stay home.


	2. Hit

Alfred sighed, rubbing his forehead as the Briton suddenly hung up without him answering. Damn Brit. Probably had to go and do something "important," but at least they had been able to talk to one another- even if it was short. At least he had that sense of .. well, he felt a lot better knowing that Arthur was alright, but he still wished that they were already on better terms. He still didn't understand why Arthur got so upset over just one joke, but.. whatever. He wasn't going to let his mind linger on it for too long- he had other things to do. He had more important things to think about, so until Arthur decided to talk to him about it and apologize for it, he wasn't going to bring it up again.

So Alfred sat down on his chair, releasing a sigh as he slumped into it- wondering what in God's name on what to do to occupy the time. It was too early to even call up another person, so he threw that out and he didn't really feel like leaving till a little later.. '_Might as well just read something_.' he thought, staring over toward his coffee table that had the newspaper on it. He reached over, grabbing it before he stared at his cell phone. He never realized it had been almost twenty minutes since Arthur hung up the phone. Strange. What in the world was he doing then?

Grunting, the blonde quickly texted the other on what in the world he was doing, hoping that he would text back as soon as possible. Yeah, probably seemed a bit pathetic or lame that just because twenty minutes passed and no call was made that Alfred decided to texted, but whatever. He didn't care. If Arthur was doing something important, the American wanted to know because.. well, he had a right to know!

"**Better be really important.**." he mumbled to himself, staring out at the wall as a sigh escaped his lips. He hated this. A lot. Still, he was stubborn and wasn't going to let this eat at him and make him apologize to the Briton. He could hold up. He wasn't going to let this stupid thing eat him up and cave in.

Hell no. Americans don't give up, and Alfred F. Jones was the original American!

As the Briton had buckled in, and the plane had set off, he gazed out the window with bright eyes. He was.. never the one for these sorts of things, but he had grown weary of the fighting. Of the screaming. The crying. The lonely nights. And all of the unnecessary tears. It wasn't what he wanted for them at all.

He took the liberty of this moment to recollect different memories. Ones of their childhood-when Alfred was merely a young, strapping lad, and even then Arthur knew what he was getting himself into. Even when the child was young, the Briton couldn't deny those.. those strong and possessive feelings of love. A single smile could make the Englishman melt into a pile of lovey..goop. And he would openly admit this. ..In his mind. Arthur had only started on the memories of his former colony when he felt a loud vibration in his pocket, and the song "Amazing Grace" began to play loudly.

This, without a doubt, knocked the green eyed Brit out of his thoughts. With a questioning glance, his eyes scanned the text message left by a certain and he smiled. He didn't know why. He just did. It was probably only because it sounded like Alfred was worried. And he loved the American that way. Worried. Wanting. Needing. His hands quickly brushed along the keys of his phone, a crooked grin covering his features. He enjoyed this too bleeding much.

"**I'm on the way.. to America. I'll be there in less than twenty minutes or so. I'll see you soon, git**."

Alfred sighed, leaning into his seat still as he felt the faint vibration of his cell phone in his hand. Holding onto it, he brought it up to his face to see the Briton had already replied. He smiled somewhat, opening up the text message before he suddenly felt a sharp pain. _Christ, what the hell..?_ The blonde shook his head, feeling a pain quiver through his forehead - holding his head with his free hand as he took in a quick breath. God, what the hell was _that_? He hadn't felt a pain like this before- well, not since the 90's, but even then this pain was.. a shitload worse.

Shaking his head slowly, he felt his eyes twitch open and close- trying to his best to keep them open. Okay, seriously, he didn't enjoy this. What the hell was going on? He rubbed his head, barely having enough time to grab his TV remote as he turned on the television. Maybe something was happening- maybe a stupid stock crash that was giving him this God awful- .. Oh no. Oh, sweet Lady Liberty, _no_.

Attacked.

Towers in New York.

Attacked by a hijacked plane.

Oh Christ. He felt the pain radiate from his head again, causing him to bite down on his lower lip to keep from letting out a cry. God, this was.. this was.. Arthur. Arthur texted him saying that he was coming on a plane and soon. He didn't want Arthur to get wrapped up in this situation or have something.. no, no he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to the Briton- especially when it would be in his territory. He could never live with the guilt of hurting Arthur within his own country, or even in general. Huffing, he clicked on the older male's name on his contacts list- quick to have his phone call him up. He could hear the dial tone ringing, only causing his head to spin more as he tried his best not to get sick from the sheer pain that quaked through his head and the fucking annoying tone.

"**Come.. on.. answer**.." Alfred groaned out, already feeling the pain seep further down. The TV screen still read that one of the tower's was attacked. Attacked, just.. completely engulfed in flames on one floor and rising up on the building. Answer. Just answer. Alfred held onto the phone tightly, clutching it as if it were his life-line as he waited to hear the other's voice. Answer, just_ fucking _answer. "**Hurry.. the hell.. up.**." he mouthed out, groaning again from the pain. He almost felt like passing out, but he had to get through to the other. He couldn't live with this or have him be endangered.

Arthur, once again had been staring outside in the clouds with his eyes glazed over. The scenery was absolutely captivating, so while continuing on the reminiscing he had been doing earlier, the Englishman was interrupted by the sound of his pilot's voice overhead. Something.. Something about being there in ten minutes or so. They were going to start landing.

This made the Briton smile, his mind playing the different scenarios through his mind. What would Alfred do if he found his former leader on his front porch, smiling, and saying that he's truly sorry? He would scoop him up in his arms. Kiss him. Hold him and take him inside-or, at least, that was what his imagination thought would happen. So he buckled up, a light flush adorning his pale lips at the mere thought. Again, his train of thought was broken by the feeling of a vibrating phone and the song "Amazing Grace". Alfred.

It was Alfred, the Briton guessed with a warm grin. He had never been so happy to hold the phone in his hands. Seeing that the younger nation was now calling him, the Englishman's cheeks went a brighter shade of red, and he did his best to remain calm. His finger dawdled on the keypad, still very hesitant to answer. He couldn't help but feel like a young school girl, getting the very first phone call from that one special person. Well, in this case, boy. Nation. Thing. Either way, the dirty blond paused for a moment to take a breath, and carefully answered the call. "**Hullo...? Alfred**?"

Alfred panted, holding his head with his freehand as he held the phone with his other- gripping tightly still as he waited for the Briton to answer. Answer. Hurry up and just a- then he heard a voice. Arthur answered, thank God- Alfred felt like laughing and thanking God, but right now he couldn't even sum up the energy to laugh. Taking in a breath, Alfred shut his eyes as he bit on his lower lip.

"**Ar.. Arthur.. Are you still on the plane..?**" he asked, twitching as he felt another wave of pain hit him from his head. God. This pain- he couldn't even bear it, but for the fact that he was on the phone with Arthur.. he couldn't scream and show it. He wanted to remain calm and not let this get any worse. He could survive this- he was a survivor. For God sakes, he was the original American and had survived through much worse; if he could go through a Civil War and go into two World Wars, he could survive this shit. "**A.. Arthur.. if you're still on it.. y-you need to get off as soon as possible.. Y-You can't stay on there.. s-something's.. something has happened and it's..**"

Alfred groaned, biting down on his lip again to keep from letting out any more noises of pain. "**Fuck.. l-look, you need to.. just get to a place that's safe.. y-you can't come here.. it'.. it's not good, Arthur**." Christ.

Oh sweet Lady Liberty, how he wished he could just get sedated and not feel this.

"**...Alfred. A-Alfred what do you mean something happened? I..**" The Englishman furrowed his brows and held his head in his hand while trying to understand what the other was attempting to say. Something was wrong? What in the world happened? Maybe.. it was just a ploy to get Arthur to go back home.

But.. the American wouldn't go so far as to do this. However it felt good to hear the other's voice in his ear. It was when the Briton had heard the low groan emit from the other's throat that he knew. He knew this was bloody fucking serious. Quickly, Arthur sat up straight and grabbed his laptop to check the American news. As he was about to scan through all of the stories, the page popped up and on the front page was a devastating picture of two large building burning.

_Collapsing_. Alfred was under attack.

"**I-I'm.. I'm going over there. I'm landing right now, I'll be there in five minutes. Alfred, just.. j-just give me five minutes and I'll take you to the hospital. Good God**." He nearly let out a whimper, unable to look at the footage of Alfred's citizens, and the gaped as he watched.. on film, live, he watched as one of the towers completely collapsed on itself, and a large cloud of smoke covered half of New York City. It was enough to make the Briton wince. His eyes were now clouded with tears, and he quickly shut off the computer. He couldn't watch it anymore. He couldn't watch that pain being inflicted on the person he loved the most. "**Oh, good lord! Don't move. Alfred.. A-Alfred please just wait for me, okay? Bloody hell, I'll be right there. Don't do a damned thing until I'm there, okay?**" Arthur continued to talk softly, hiding the quiet sobs in the back of his throat.

He needed to be there with him. He needed to hold the other this very moment and know for sure that he was alright. The dirty blond nearly jumped off the plane once it landed and rushed towards a taxi, slamming the door behind.

"**Good lord, Alfred... good lord. Stay on the phone with me. Keep talking, please.**"

"**S-Something happened.. it's.. it's really shitty, Arthur.. if you alread.. already haven't heard from anyone.. I- **.." he paused, listening to the other as he held onto his head still. He needed something for this pain- he couldn't keep taking it. He didn't want to be on his sofa and pass out from the pain that he was getting from his country being attacked. Fuck. He didn't think they would go this far on an attack, especially on a random day like this. He probably should've listened more and actually discussed it during meetings with the UN, but.. the last time he got attacked like this was years ago and it only caused him to be bed ridden for a few days.

This wasn't going to be as simple as that.

Hardly.

He twitched, listening to Arthur as he talked to him on the phone. Fuck. Idiot. He shouldn't even be coming here, especially when he was under attack by PLANES. At least he was getting off soon..

"**I.. I'm not moving from here, Arthur.. I- f-..**" he couldn't even form a sentence as he felt the pain radiate down the rest of his body. He was hit. Again. Everything was just becoming a blur and he couldn't even process information. All he could do was let out quiet noises of pain, forcing himself not to scream while on the phone with Arthur. That was the last thing he needed- Arthur to get into even more of a frenzy while trying to get to him. Christ. He didn- shit. The TV. This wasn't even good to look at.

Everything was just getting a lot worse and he wasn't even sure if he could take it. His head- his head kept throbbing with that God awful pain that he could only describe as a migraine on steroids, and that was barely a quarter of the pain he felt. The pain started coming from his chest too now- stupid second hit. Stupid buildings. Stupid attacks. He bit down on his lip again, tasting blood now as the effects of constantly biting down were already busting his lip. Well, just another thing to add to getting hit by two planes. Alfred laid down on his sofa, shaking his head as he heard the other continue to talk. Keep _talking_? How the hell could he when he felt like vomiting from how intense the pain was?

"**I.. I'm still here.. fuck.. Arthur.. it hurts**.."


	3. Heal

Part three of the rp log. Don't worry ;; it's actually going to get really cute soon-whether you believe it or not.

* * *

Arthur gripped onto the back seat of the taxi, feeling the leather scrunch up underneath his fingers.

He couldn't stand this. Alfred was strong. Hell, he would openly admit that Alfred was probably the bleeding strongest country in the world, and to see hear him.. like this? Weak? Whimpering in pain? It made the Briton's heart crumble into pieces.

It was that sort of feeling, when you're young. You're young and you're innocent and so naive-you believe in superheroes, you want to be one because they're so strong.

Well, Alfred was that superhero. And Arthur was that naive kid, who was now witnessing that super heroes.. Well, they all have a weak spot. America was.. still human (of course, in a complicated sort of way), but he could still feel pain. He could still scream. He could still cry. And that was probably the last thing Arthur would ever want to see. Fuck, just hearing the other this way, he couldn't take it. The Englishman nearly thought that he would start sobbing furiously, so he had to keep choking back his tears on the phone, and acting like he was poised and calm.

Someone had to be, right?

"**...Alfred, I-I'm around the corner.**" He cleared his throat. **"I.. I'm sorry**." Here, he hung up. If any time was a good time to apologize, now would not be that time, but it simply spilled out of his lips. Everything he wanted to tell the golden blond was going to end up escaping past his lips once he saw Alfred in his physical state. Hastily, the lanky Brit climbed out of the taxi, paid the driver and ran up to his former colony's door.

He swallowed thickly. And once he opened the door, his throat nearly closed up. His heart wrenched, and his face was twisted in a mixture of emotions. Tossing all thoughts to the side, Arthur quickly slammed the door and telephoned 911, while rushing over towards the kitchen to grab a wet towel, ice, and other things he would need, at least for now. If anything, he could help the pain subside for now.

It was the least he could do-but mostly, he did this first so he wouldn't have to look at the other. "**Alfred? Alfred.. where are you? **"

"**Y.. You're already near my house..?**" he asked quietly, only to cough violently right after. Okay, that wasn't.. he felt something come up, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as he coughed up whatever the hell it was. He squinted, staring down at his hand.

Blood.

Yeah, that wasn't good.

Here he was, laying on his sofa while he was trying not to scream from the intense pain that was going through his entire body and now he was coughing up blood. Fuck internal bleeding. He hated it so much, it was a lot worse than people would expect- having to stare down and see your own blood coming out of your mouth. Yeah. That wasn't great, but it was the least of his problems. The American, very faintly heard the Briton apologize, only to hang up right after.

Sorry. Great timing.

"**F-fuck.. **" he muttered, feeling his body twitch and turn as he couldn't take how badly his head was pounding or how tight he felt his chest become. It was like he had knots in there and someone was stabbing at him continuously while he was on fire. Though, he never knew what it was like to be on fire, but he had practically every single damn injury on the Earth, so might as well add that. He began to sink down, rolling over and off the couch as he kept twitching and had tremors of pain shoot through him. The blonde didn't care that he fell off the sofa, but the after effect he had.. well, he did mind it because it only made him groan in pain and hold onto his head. Shit.

Where the hell was Arthur? Where the hell was anyone when he needed them? The other countries probably didn't know since they were too wrapped up in their own affairs, but not like he would call them for help. He was too proud to even tell them he needed help.

America, the land of the free and home of the brave, was now reduced to a pile of unending pain and suffering on his living room floor. A voice.

"**A-A.. Art..Arthur**?" he mumbled, blinking slowly as he heard the other's voice ring in. Thank God, but wait.. he didn't want the other to see him like this. Oh, no God no, not in this state. Anything but this. "**I.. I'm in,.. fuck.. s-sh.. I'm in my.. l-living room..! Shit..! **" the cerulean eyed male hissed out, another wave of pain just crashing down on him again.

The briton followed the other's voice, talking on the phone to the operator and quickly hung up after the brief conversation was over. He was still trying to avoid seeing the other, but once he peeked over the couch, and spotted Alfred. Laying on the floor. With blood coming out of his mouth that way. Fuck, Arthur's heart stopped completely.

Covering his own mouth in reaction, he dashed over back towards the kitchen, searching for a bucket for the American to spit out blood in, and rushed back over to the blond's side, where he stared for a moment, his knees weak, and his eyes watering. But he shook it off. He bit his lip and dropped everything to help America up and onto the couch, laying him across it while placing the bucket beside him. The Englishman placed the iced towel on the other's forehead, and grabbed a chair to sit beside him, and attempted to coo him with a gentle voice while wiping blood off of Alfred's pale lips and face.

"**An ambulance is.. on it's way. You'll be fine, alrigh**t?" Arthur managed a forced smile, eyes wet with tears as he carefully placed his hand on the wounded nation's cheek, while icing the busted lip. "**..I'm here. It's alright, Alfred**."

He continued smiling, rocking a bit, as he gazed down with terribly concerned eyes. Nothing else mattered more than the man laying in front of him right now. Well, in actuality, nothing ever mattered more than him. Ever. And this was how it always was, even if he never showed it-Alfred was the most important to Arthur. As a country, and as a person.

"**Tell me where it hurts. I'll make the pain go away, dear.. **" He mumbled delicately, as if every word could break the American without even trying. And while it was a stupid thing to ask and he expected nothing but an ugly look saying "_it fucking hurts everywhere you fucktard_", he kept his gentle smile, which was now contradicting the few tears straying from his eyes. After all these years, he had been taking the American for granted. He figured he would always be here. Always be by his side, and he could take his sweet time before telling him how he truly felt. But this.. if this could happen at any moment.. no one was safe.

Not even his own super hero.

"**Y.. ya.. **" Alfred coughed, trying his best to form a sentence without choking on his own blood or sounding like an idiot for constantly stuttering. Screw that though, he was in pain that he couldn't even describe. He stared at the Briton, shaking his head slowly as the other brought him up and back onto the couch.

Of course, Arthur to the rescue.

Hadn't it always been like this in the past?

He would get hurt and Arthur would come and help him, but that was when he was a child. He wasn't a child anymore. He was an adult and a strong nation, so why couldn't he help but smile somewhat at the help he was getting from the older nation?

"**Ya'.. got an ambulance..? H-Heh'.. ai.. aight, if you say so.. **" Alfred smiled slightly, staring at Arthur with clouded eyes that kept filling in with pain. God, why did the other looks so hopeless? He looked like he was the one who wanted to cry, when Alfred was the one that had every reason to cry. God, crying didn't seem so bad right now, at least at his point anyway. He couldn't even process all the pain that kept going through his body. He took in a slow breath, trying his best to calm down his beating heart. All this trauma and sheer impact of all this pain was causing his heart to just keep beating faster and going crazy- hell, like he needed a heart attack right now while Arthur was watching him.

He shut his eyes, listening to the other as he gently cleaned him up. "**.. Ha.. ha.. **" the American forced out a weak laugh at what Arthur said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "**I.. I.. d-don't even think it's.. possible to make it all go away.. I.. I've been through worse.. **" he opened his eyes, staring up at the Briton - his vision going in and out of a heavy blur.

"**.. I.. I can't.. r-really stand this.. pain in my head though.. I can't even.. see you that well. **." Alfred muttered softly, only to suddenly begin to cough again. Shaking, the younger nation simply took in a heavy breath to try and just calm himself down. Just calm his body down. He wasn't even sure if at this point it was possible when one of his towers already collapsed and he couldn't even begin to describe the pain. It was just.. Funny. He.. never really thought that he would be in this position.

He thought before he would die from war- all those wars and battles he had been in the past almost seemed like a dream when it came to how intense this new wave was. Then again, times were so much different than when he was a young nation, fresh out with small colonies, but.. Alfred kept staring at Arthur, trying his best to focus his vision to make out a clear sight of the other.

This hadn't changed. He had always had Arthur here, and that hadn't changed since day one.

It was odd. Arthur could feel déjà vu washing over him, as he continued to dab at Alfred's forehead with the ice cold towel. He could see himself back hundreds of years ago, holding the American in his arms as a child and tending to his wounds (as minor as they were back then compared to this) with the utmost care. There was a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach despite the scenario occurring at this moment. He was happy, in a sense that he felt closer to his former colony than ever before.

The Briton leaned over slightly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his arm carelessly before going back to cleaning up the rest of the blood and placed his hand on Alfred's face. It was simply just an attempt to cool the other down. He let out a choked laugh.

"**..S-Sorry.. I know it's not possible but I figured.. it was worth a shot. I always used to be able to take it all away, remember? How I would kiss your wound and you would smile? I wish it would bleeding work now**." England let out a shaky sigh, and wiped the other tears now on their way down from his cheeks again.

He had always been overly emotional.

Especially with things that had to do with Alfred.

"**..The ambulance should be here any moment. And they'll actually be able to take care of you, unlike me**." Arthur brushed a few stray strands of hair away from the other's eyes. Even now, they were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. And for the moment, he stared into them, committing their spring blue color to memory-just in case. He knew the other would make it. But it was just a precautionary measure. "**I'm utterly useless right now. I bet even that blasted French frog would be even more help than I am right now.. **" He said this, mainly to himself. He wished he could cure Alfred by himself. He wished he could scoop up all of his pain, the spilt blood, and the destruction up, and take it in himself. To bury it inside himself so that way the American wouldn't have to deal with it.

After all of the terrible things, words, and threats, the last person he wanted to see hurt was the injured boy right in front of him. A sobbed managed to escape past his lips, and he shook his head, choking it back down his throat. Arthur didn't want to cry in front of him, of all people, but it was already too late for that. The briton, with his face flushed, leaned over and tenderly kissed the other's forehead, his bruised lips and then his eyelids.

Oh, he loved the other so much it was embarrassing.

"**..I can hear them. They're down the street.**"

How could he forget the other's tender affection when he was younger? It was one of the things that made him happy when he got hurt. He silently laughed at the other's words, smiling at the slightest as he nodded slowly. "**I.. I remember that.. you would that and then everything.. would be all better.. heh.. i.. if only it would work out this time.. now.. it'd.. it would be really nice.. **"

Alfred quietly said, staring at the other with blurred eyes. God, he was crying now- at least it looked like it. How could Arthur cry when he was in pain? He was the one with all this going on while Arthur was merely the one who was tending to him now. Then again.. he supposed when it came down to it, if Arthur was in this horrible state, he would probably be in near tears himself. He shut his eyes again, feeling the cool towel on his forehead as he shivered by the slightest. At least he wasn't moving as much anymore, but maybe it was because the pain was too unbearable to where he couldn't move anymore.

"**.. D.. Don't say.. that, Arthur.. y-you're taking care.. of me.. well.. **" he spoke, listening to the Briton. Of course he would say that, saying something stupid like that during this situation. Why couldn't he just stop saying this nonsense? He was here and helping him out, he wasn't being stupid and not doing anything.. He released a sigh, shaking his head again at Arthur's words. "**.. Y.. You aren't useless, so.. s-shut up, Arthur.. Francis.. h.. he isn't even that good with .. t-this stuff. H.. he couldn't even .. do anything to help me.. You're.. d-doing stuff to help me, Art. **." he smiled a bit more, opening his eyes by the slightest.

Oh, how he wished the other would stop worrying over him. He didn't want him to be crying over him, or to be in this bubbling state of mind. It was.. it was just a lot more painful to see him like this.

Oh God, he really was.. crying.

He didn't want to hear it.. he stared at him again- blinking as the Briton suddenly leaned in and placed a few kisses on him. Even in this state, the American felt his face grow a bit more, gazing at him with a smile despite the pain. "**.. T-They are..? W-Well.. th.. that's good. **." he mumbled, shutting his eyes again.

As Arthur was going to speak up, the medics had crashed through the door, prepared with a stretcher to carry the American out with. He bit his nail; quickly following close behind as they walked towards the ambulance and heaved the golden blond inside the back. There was no way the Briton would leave the other alone. Whether anyone else liked it or not, he would stay with the younger nation.

Climbing inside the ambulance, Arthur watched helplessly as they tried to do exactly what the Englishman had been doing not too long ago. He gave short, brief answers to the medic who was questioning him about the pain "_his (boy)/friend/_", as the medic emphasized, was feeling, where, and what exactly had happened. All the while, emerald eyes stayed glued to Alfred, not letting him leave his sight and waited to arrive at the hospital.

No one else was here for him.

No one else was here for Alfred when it mattered and that.. well, made it even more evident to the Briton about how much he truly did care for the other.

And he could only hope that the tanned man would realize the same.


	4. Memories

part four of our rp log

characters do not belong to me

also, sorry about the bolded text. I post this onto livejournal in color, so I bold the dialogue so it's easier to read. ;;

* * *

Doctor Grey stared down at his patient- Alfred F. Jones as he rested in the hospital bed. Strange. The patient had head trauma and internal bleeding, and yet he wasn't even.. attacked or anything.

He rubbed at his eyes, wondering if that one British man was still outside the door. He told him to wait out there while they continued to keep running some tests, but something wasn't right. The patient was responding fine (considering after how messed up his body was, he'd be fine), but the way other things were going...

He opened the door, staring out to see Arthur. "Mr... Kirkland, right? You can come in now, if you want. I have to tell you some things about your partner." he spoke out, looking back at the sleeping blonde.

He wasn't quite sure how to tell the other how the American was... well, because of all the head trauma… there wasn't much he could say that was good.

"It's... important."

Arthur had been holding his head in his hands, staring at the tiled floor underneath his feet. It wouldn't change. It stayed the same. And he was suddenly jealous. If only life could be that way-unmoving, unchanging. It would be a bit safer. He hunched over in his seat, and this time closed his eyes. If only he could've…if he could've done something. If he could've prevented this. He wasn't watching him close enough. That was it. If the Briton had been watching him more closely, this could've been prevented.

Why couldn't he have been there?

It had been a few hours since they had arrived at the hospital and the only moment when the dirty blond would move was to go to the restroom. His stomach growled fiercely at this. Yes, he was starving, but there was no way he was going to move. Even if he was going stark raving mad staring at this damned tiled floor.

England could hear the doctor's and nurses talking, but it was a gentle hum. He wished he could peek inside. He just needed to see Alfred and know that he was alright. If he was alright, then nothing else mattered. The only time Arthur would pick his head up, was when he heard another Arthur being called, or when the door to Alfred's room would open and another nurse (or occasionally a doctor) would walk in. However, the next time he lifted his head, he couldn't help but be a bit relieved.

It was the other's doctor. Quickly giving a nod, the Englishman brought himself up to his feet and rushed into the door, his eyes hesitant. He twitched a bit when the doctor said "Partner".

Ah. Of course it seemed that way. Seeing as how it was obvious how much the British man cared for the other nation, whether said nation could realize himself.

"I'm…not his partner." He mumbled hastily as he stood by the younger boy's bedside and grabbed a hold of his hand. Alfred looked so peaceful like this. Eyes closed. His chest rising and falling slowly. He was still so beautiful, even with all of those wires plugged into him. "I'm his…friend. B-But that doesn't matter right now. W...What's the matter with him?"

"Oh, you're not? My apologies, Mr. Kirkland..." the doctor started, raising a brow as the other rushed to the sleeping American's side, only to grab his hand. Yeah, not his partner? Well, must be a very close friend then.

The doctor rubbed at his eyes, walking over to the other's side, staring down at him and the sedated blonde. "Well.. Alfred's in a pretty stable condition, considering he trauma he received to the head and his internal organs. I don't know how it happened, but we were able to stop the bleeding after some time. Despite the damage his body has, he should be able to heal properly, however we may have to put him into physical therapy for a while. It seems his nerves had been damaged as well and may not be responsive, as well as his muscles, there for we just have to see how long it'll take for him to heal up. If it takes longer than expected, we will have to put him into it, but... for the most part, his body is fine. His head on the other hand..." he paused, releasing a sigh. "He took a lot of damage there. He was lucky to be able to still function," he started "however... damage had been done to some part of his brain that stimulates memories. He may not be able to remember things from today or even from years ago. We're not sure on how much his brain had been damaged, but once he wakes up, we'll do more tests on his memory. It may just be his short term memory affected, or his long term but we do expect him to not remember some things. Hopefully within time he'll get it back, but for now we have to let him rest and wait for the medication to wear off. He should be waking up within the night." doctor Grey finished, staring down at the Briton.

"Does he have any family that we can contact and inform? Oh, and you're welcome to stay here till he wakes up."

The Briton could only shake his head.

"I'll call his brother, and let him know. That's the only family he has. And thank you." He said this briefly.

He could feel his breathing hitch in his throat as all of the words that had just hit him straight in the face. Of course the other would be alright.

He was the strongest bloody fucking nation there ever was, so there was really no surprise there. It was a relief, honestly.

And while Arthur was still in the process of being relieved, he had heard what the doctor had said. Memories. Out of all the things for Alfred to lose... it had to be his memories. Well, wasn't this jolly good? The Briton resisted the urge to smack his head across the wall put himself in a coma.

Fuck. Fuckity, bloody fuck.

What if Alfred lost memories of their past? Of when things were perfect? And they were happy? What if Alfred forgot him completely? What would he do then? What would anyone do in such a situation?

It was heartbreaking just to think of.

The Briton rubbed his brow, closing his eyes as he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket to call Matthew. Anything to take his mind off of Alfred forgetting him completely. Or even partially. "Excuse me for a moment." Arthur said as he walked over towards the other side of the room and began calling Matthew.

"…pick up, pick up-Ah. Matthew, hullo. Ah, erm, have you been watching the news? ...Dear, you can't be living under a rock." He paused here, and remembered that he was, indeed talking to Canada, and quickly continued. "...It's your brother. He's been hit. I think three times. Y-, Yes, Matthew, calm down, yes he's alright. I'm here with him right now and he should wake up soon. No, no. It's not safe to travel by plane. You're going to have to wait until things are cleared up unless you're willing to drive all the bloody way down here. Yes. Yes, he'll be fine. But…ah, he's going to lose some of his memory. Ah, listen, that's not important right now, I need you to go inform everyone else who hasn't heard yet, so... I'll talk to you later, alright? I'll call you soon. Yes. Yes, I will. Be safe."

At that he hung up the phone and stared out the window. Fuck. It still didn't take his mind off of the memory business. All he wanted now was to wake up and be told it was only a dream.

If only he was so lucky.

Alfred stirred in his sleep, blinking somewhat as he began to wake up. Batting open his eyes, he quickly regretted shifting his position as he let out a groan. Fuck, what the hell happened? He was sore all over and felt like utter hell. He brought his hand up, rubbing his head before he let out another groan. His head. Oh shit, what the hell? His head was pounding and he had.. bandages on? Wait, this wasn't ... he was in the hospital? What happene- ...

Sitting up, his eyes widened as he remembered the earlier events- the whole getting attacked and passing out, but.. Why was one of his hands.. Alfred stared down, seeing his other hand being held by this.. Who the hell was this guy?

He stared at the other with wide eyes, his cheeks burning slightly as he saw how tight the grip was.

Okay, so really, who was this guy? Was he a friend? Family member? And what the hell was up with his eyebrows? The blonde tugged away at the other, frowning as he kept staring at him. Why was... seriously, he was wondering who this man was. All he remembered was getting attacked and he just.. ended up here.

He rubbed at his eyes, frowning still. It was dark and the guy was dead asleep.

How long had he been in here? And why did he feel like bothering the sleeping guy? They were probably just friends, because he knew that they couldn't possibly be related- they looked so much different. This guy had really dark blonde hair and had those... really giant eyebrows.

Alfred knew for a fact he didn't have ANY relatives that looked like him.

Wait. Did he even have a fam- oh yeah, he had a... brother? "I think I do." he mumbled, scratching at the side of his face. Yeah, yeah he had a younger brother? M…Matthew? Something like that, but that still didn't answer how long he had been in here. He leaned over, poking at the Briton.

"Hey…Hey, wake up..." He mumbled, adjusting his glasses. Wait. How were his glasses…well, who cares? His glasses were on and he could only stare at the other as he tried to wake him up. "Get up..."

Arthur was having the most wonderful dream.

There were fairies, and unicorns, and other mystical things. And there was a meadow. A bright and timeless meadow for as far as the eye could see.

Arthur turned to see Alfred sitting right beside him with beaming smile, almost brighter than sunlight itself. He watched while the American leaned over to kiss his cheek, and they laughed. They laughed, and Arthur cried with happiness gleaming in his eyes. That was the way it was supposed to be.

Feeling his hand get tugged away from the other's, he grumbled, keeping a vice like grip. The Briton wasn't about to let the other go now. Not when they just had that scare. With a quiet sigh, the Englishman rubbed his eyes and spotted Alfred. Awake and sitting up in the hospital bed. Ah.

He was awake. He was awake now.

It took everything in his power to not jump up and hold the other in his arms. Arthur blinked, and smiled at the tanned nation. Just happy to see him.

"…Alfred. You're awake. You're finally awake." England smiled, keeping a hold on his hand as he sat up straight. He was so happy the younger country was alright. "..The doctor said you were going to be fine…but I was still so bleeding afraid." Arthur smiled sheepishly and leaned over to plant a chaste kiss on the other's brow.

The American raised a brow, staring at the other with very wide eyes as he held onto him still. Christ, were they lovers or something? Or was this guy just really affectionate with his friends? He blinked, giving the other man a very odd stare as he began to talk- realizing that, alright they had some relationship due to how he was speaking to him and was obviously concerned.

Alright, probably just a really good f- … Okay, did he just kiss him?

What the hell?

Was he gay? Hell, he was freaking out a bit as the other was giving this type of open affection to him right after he just woke up. He shook his head, leaning away from the other as he stared at him- his cerulean eyes reflecting obvious confusion.

"Okay...okay, wait a second. Why the hell are you kissing me? Who are you? And…how long have I been in this hospital for?" He asked him, raising a brow as he had his hand still within the other's.

Talk about awkward.


	5. Forget

Characters do not belong to me

Enjoy

* * *

He wanted answers and he wanted them now though, especially when he was getting … just random kissed by another man! He didn't like other men…did he?

Well, hell, he wasn't even sure and he didn't feel like exploring his damn sexuality within a hospital room at night! He rubbed at his head again with his free hand, trying to soothe away the still lingering pain that was overtaking him. Christ, he really did get a good attack, huh..?

"I really can only remember getting attacked and just… I don't know, just what time is it and how long am I staying here? What else happened after I got attacked?" still, even if he was asking this, his mind was wandering back to the other's random show of affection. Who was he? And why was he kissing him and holding his hand? Ugh, it was all too frustrating to even think about, but he didn't think that the other was well, ... a bad person, 'cause he probably knew him. Maybe if he got out of hand he'd call a nurse, but he needed to know what was going on now, so he'd just have to wait and see what the other would do. If he got on him though, he was going to go crazy- he didn't need any random affection like hugging and kissing from someone who was in his room!

Even if they were friends, it was just weird.

At the look the younger nation gave him, Arthur could feel an arrow shoot right through his beating heart. He had completely forgotten about the memory loss.

Out of all the fucking things to forget. Out of all the damned things to fucking forget, it had to be him, of course. That was just his bloody fucking luck.

A sob had nearly worked up to his throat when he forcibly choked it back down, gripping onto his own shirt with his trembling hand. Of course it had to be him. He was always the one who in the end had to give something up. First Alfred's company. Then his independence. Now, him entirely.

In his ears, he could've sworn he had just heard a loud crack-his heart shattering into pieces and laying out on the hospital floor. Just when he had figured it out. Just when he was about to open up, and actually let the other see how much he cared, how much he loved him-it was all over. The Englishman's hand twitched, and he uncurled it, letting go of the other's tanned one. He placed his hand back onto his lap, and stared there for a moment, trying to come up with something to say. Honestly, what would anyone say in such a predicament? Who could go through this and not break apart at the seams?

"…I-I... sorry. Forget I did that, alright? I…erm. I'm Arthur Kirkland, otherwise known as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. You've…You've been here only for a few hours or so. About twelve but I'm not sure. I fell asleep. Erm…Ah.. well, you'll probably be here for a good while. Weeks, maybe a few months. Nothing else happened after you were attacked so.. don't worry. You're fine. In fact, you're practically almost physically healed." He sighed here, and rubbed the back of his head while looking away and towards the wall. There was no way he could look at Alfred now.

He knew he didn't mean to hurt him.

But.. this was just awful. Awful, awful, awful. At this moment he couldn't help but hate the American a little. He secretly wished that in turn, if Alfred forgot about him, he could do the same. But it just wasn't that easy. "... I... ah. Erm." The Englishman chewed on his bottom lip and went back to staring at the floor.

"...Your brother will be here in the morning. I.. I can leave if you feel uncomfortable."

"No, no it's…well, you don't have to leave. I'm fine with you being here, Arthur…I'm sorry, but what are we to each other? Are we friends, family or... er, are we together?" He asked, feeling his cheeks burn a bit at that question. He didn't even know with how sad the other person looked- family members would be crush if someone didn't know who they were, same with friends, but... he didn't exactly know how much he would freak out at if a lover forgot the other.

He sighed quietly, staring at the other as he spoke up. "My brother..?" he asked, blinking again. "Is his name ... Uhm'…Matthew, right? I can't remember if that's his name or not, I think it is, but uh' alright..." he mumbled, looking down for a moment as he tried to think.

Okay, this guy was Arthur Kirkland and he was the UK. Alright, easy as that, but. he had to remember who he was, right? He had to, at least so then he would know what they were to one another.

Briton, Briton, Arthur…Arthur…he shook his head, not really pulling out much from this.

Maybe he needed to sleep or talk more with the other to jog his memory back of him. Maybe he forgot a lot of other people too? He wasn't sure, but right now things were shaky and he found himself not really being able to pull that much information out of his brain. Stupid attack- he felt so useless right now as he stared at the other nation.

"I'm sorry, that must sound awkward for ya'…I just can't really remember much right now." he sighed out, rubbing his head again. "But uh'…wait, you've been here all twelve hours I've been here?" he asked him, almost in disbelief. How could someone spend almost entire day here with him in a hospital? Why would he even do that? Maybe they really were lovers and he really did forget about him.

God, did that make him a really bad person?

It wasn't his fault though; he couldn't remember this man or what was going on right now- it made him frustrated. He bit on his lower lip, sighing again. God, well, maybe if he kept sleeping and talking to this weirdo brow guy he would get some more answers and figure this whole thing out. He seemed nice enough and didn't seem like he would do anything wrong or lie to him.

"W-Well…that's... that's complicated. Really complicated." He said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. How in the Queen's name was he supposed to explain their relationship to each other? Hell, Arthur didn't even know if the American still felt the way he did. The only thing he knew was that he loved the man lying in front of him. And it hurt. It hurt so badly. This was honestly how their relationship sounded in his mind:

They were family at first.

He adopted the other.

Took care of him.

And fell in love somewhere along the lines.

But Alfred didn't want him anymore.

So they were broken apart. T

hings had been rocky since then.

And they've been on an off and on again relationship sort of fling.

Sometimes the American would kiss him. Hold him. And say the sweetest of things.

And then there were days when there was nothing.

They ignored one another. Spat ugly words. And fought.

What sort of person wouldn't want to wake up with that being erased from his mind? It made everything so much less complicated. And he didn't want to ruin that naivety for Alfred.

"Let's just say…when something happens to you, I'm always here. I'll always be here. That's…it." He forced out a broken smile. It was crooked. Maybe too crooked, so he quickly took it back and put on his blank mask of an expression. Matthew. Alfred even remembered Matthew and not him. The American had just turned his soul inside out. Why? Why did this happen to him? Arthur abruptly ripped this train of thought out of his mind.

"It's…not that important, so don't you worry. Hm? Ah, yes…I've been here since you were admitted. I was the one who called the ambulance." He shrugged this off, as if it was nothing. Because it wasn't. It was just the way Arthur was. He would break his back for the American, so doing something like this was nothing to him. "How are you feeling anyway, dea-…A-Alfred?"

Complicated? How complicated could it be? Well, if he was to where he couldn't even talk about it, maybe it really was this…complicated. He rubbed at his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh. Man, this sucked. He couldn't even remember who this guy was and apparently they must've had a very…rough relationship maybe? Maybe he was a bad guy and he hurt this man? What if Arthur had hurt him and they had a really bad relationship because of it?

This just gave him a headache instead of helping him figure who this guy was to him or how their relationship was. Ugh, how bothersome. The American frowned, staying silent as the Briton spoke up again after a short while. Always here? Huh, maybe they really were important to one another… but he just wished he remembered it instead of being completely blank to this whole experience.

"So, you're always here for me then? Like…huh, this may sound awkward, but something like a guardian angel? Heh', well that's nice to know." he stared up and caught the other's smile, only to sigh as it went away in an instant. "Well…alright... so you called…" he paused, blinking for a moment, "the ambulance for me? That's…wow…thanks. I probably would've been gone without you then." he smiled slightly, rubbing his head again. Stupid pain- it kept quaking, but not at the caliber that he had received a lot earlier when he was first hit.

"Huh? Well... aside from feeling like I got hit by a bus and was thrown into a pit of spikes, I think I'm doing alright..." Alfred laughed quietly at that, shutting his eyes. "Thank you, Arthur. You know... I…well, I'm sorry that I can't really remember you.. but, it's nice to have someone here, someone who's at least telling me this. So... thank you, really."

He opened his eyes, gazing toward the other. God, why couldn't his memory come back? Maybe he was just trying to focus too much on getting it back maybe if he just relaxed and didn't try and force it out, it would just magically return to him. Oh, like hell it would happen though, but he felt bad for seeing the other like this. "So uhm'…how are you though? I mean, you've been through the whole situation and were stuck here with me so," Alfred took in a breath, blinking again, "how are you then?"

"Guardian angel? No…No, no, I'm not that bloody great." He let out a brief laugh, shaking his head while he fiddled with his fingers on his own lap.

"Just one country looking out for its neighbor is all. It's like when you were young. So, it's become a second nature to me." Arthur admitted this with a faint smile, rubbing his brow to try and relax and calm the headache that was coming on. He was going to end up with a migraine from all of these difficult thoughts. It was bad enough that his chest felt heavy, and he could barely breathe after being asked 'Who are you?' by the one person he actually gave a damn about.

"Well…I'm just glad you're alright. I knew you would be. You're the strongest person I know. You'll be better in no time, whether you remember me or not-again it's not that important. So don't apologize to me. And as I said before, it's not a problem. I've simply always been here for you, and will continue to be here until you get your memory back to its normal state or not."

Arthur stood up and walked towards the sink to pour himself a cup of water, watching as it filled the cup quietly. "Hm..? Ah, I'm jolly good. I've done this aplenty of times before. Mostly with you, so, it's nothing new. Besides a slight chest pain, I'm peachy keen." He said this with a bitter undertone, hoping the other wouldn't catch it. He was just…lovesick. Love sick and torn apart.

More than anything did he want to explain their relationship, but Alfred wouldn't understand either way.

"I think you are, at least- wait, you knew me when I was younger?" He asked, blinking at the other as he spoke up.

He had known him since he was a child? Wow, that was…pretty awesome, he just wished he could remember Arthur. Funny, you'd think you'd remember someone you'd known since childhood a lot easier than someone you met recently. He sighed, staying in his bed as he gazed at the older nation.

He was nice, and he had to admit he was quite handsome- minus those…giant eyebrows that occupied half his face. Seriously, how did he even function with those giant things on his forehead? Oh well, that made him unique in a sense though. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head again.

"Really? You'll still be here with me? I think... that's really nice, so thanks. But I'm glad that you're alright, despite this all happening. I'm sorry I put you through this, Arthur- even though you keep telling me to not apologize, I still want to. I don't know." He sighed, shrugging. When did he suddenly become so apologetic? He was never really like this, but maybe it was because of the whole situation that suddenly made him want to apologize to the other so much.


End file.
